


Illegitimate words

by Totally_Legit



Category: GOT7
Genre: 2Jae, Fantasy, Heartbreak, Kissing, Love, M/M, One Shot Collection, Requests, mild smut (so far), yugjae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-01-07 10:39:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18408941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_Legit/pseuds/Totally_Legit
Summary: One Shots of any substance written for requests.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I decided to set up a collection for requests that I received (And wrote, duh!).  
> I post them to my tumblr, but I kinda don't want to put them in my other OS collection, because it's somehow something different.
> 
> And yeah... I'm distracting myself with those...
> 
> I'll use this opportunity for a quick thank you to all the comment writers who cheered me up after Sparkle.  
> I love you guys and I'm on a good way (I think)

As requested by anon.

 

> Can you please please pleeeaaaase right anything about Yugyeom?? Whatever you feel like writing!!

 

There’s nothing bad about being the maknae. In fact, it’s absolutely great. Everybody takes care of you, everybody fusses over you, everyone is lenient with you. You can fuck up once in a while and you’ll be forgiven. You can be bratty or you can whine to get your way. Easy.

Now, Yugyeom is grown up and all, but he still kind of has the Baby-Status. That doesn’t bother him, really. It’s not so much a problem to be  **the** baby. It sucks to be  **a** baby.

The thing, about being an idol, it is that you kind of get. How should he put it? Frozen in time? Yugyeom  _was_ a baby when he debuted. Physically he’s grown out of it, sure. But there were things all his Hyungs were ahead of him back then… and that never really changed. He never really had the time to be rebellious to his parents or be a careless teenager. To experiment and slack off. He was full time employed since he was really, really little. At least emotionally.

Now he’s a twenty-something, but barely anyone, including himself sees him as an actual… man. Because somehow he is still that baby.

It wouldn’t be bad, it really wouldn’t. He likes his life and he likes to be pampered and he likes to be the center of attention. There is just… just this one thing. This thing that all of his Hyungs had ahead of him back when they first debuted. That thing that never changed since then, because they were frozen. They were tied. And Yugyeom just… He’s just  _alone_ with it.

It’s not like he would ever dare to say it out loud. Not even to BamBam. BamBam who was barely older than him, but who was somehow way ahead. In his emotional maturity. Who looked awfully young, so small and tiny, but who was way. Way. Way ahead of Yugyeom in many ways. BamBam, who is ice cold, who can stare the company in the eyes, smug and confident and can do whatever he pleases, because he does not rely on them, because he is a prince and he makes a shit ton of money.

Yugyeom admires that. He’s awfully jealous and there was a time, not too long ago when the admiration he felt for his best friend was much less innocent. It was confusing and scary and Yugyeom felt all the more small next to him. He got over it, of course. It wasn’t the first time, he had to get over these kind of feelings many, many times.

The first time, he remembers quite blurry, was long before debut. The way Jackson was fawning over him, even when they could barely communicate had given him a feeling that, after a while of pondering, he sorted into the category of “adult feelings” he was not yet old enough to have. By the time that he learnt that he was the only one of his group of seven who had never in his life acted upon those feelings, they were already gone and Yugyeom, embarrassed to death, lied.

The lie he told was carefully crafted and became more detailed over time. Adding little things here and there so his mates would never, ever find out the truth.

The right age for Yugyeom to have his first came and went and he was an idol. But it was okay, for a while, because the others were tied, too. The topic vanished from their conversations, because there’s no point in repeating the same stories over and over when nobody was in the position to experience something new to tell about.

Yugyeom kept his strange feelings for himself. After Jackson it was Mark. Then it was Jaebum, at some point. Then finally, Jinyoung. It scared him, each time. He had thoughts, he had dreams. He imagined, this and that, though he never had any basis to work with. At some point in his life he had made up his mind on what it should feel like and that’s what he stayed with. Through every single one of his crushes. And they were a lot. He didn’t even stick to his own members. Anyone that he met was basically in the line of one of his naughty fantasies. He’s an idol after all, surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of gorgeous, handsome, beautiful boys and girls.

And then it got worse. Everyone grew up. They got older, they became successful. They let their guards down and management became more lenient with them. One after the other snuck in a date or two. Secretive at first and then, over time, a little more careless. They unfroze. Some were cute and shy about it, like Mark and some, well, mostly BamBam were extremely smug about it. He got a scolding and toned it down, but just a notch. It made Yugyeom uneasy, but he tried to hide it.

BamBam is the second youngest and by now he’s most likely the most experienced of them all. He’s his best friend and Yugyeom thinks regularly about coming clean to him, asking him for advice, but by now he’s kept the lie up for so many years, he can’t bear the shame of telling the truth. One good thing that happened was, when Jaebum and Youngjae finally crossed the line of their platonic love.

It told Yugyeom two things, while he tried not to stare too much when he first witnessed them doing it in their presence. 1: It’s okay to think like that about boys. 2: It’s okay to think like that about members.

The problem there? Well, the two of them liked each other. Equally. And only each other. Yugyeom feels like that about approximately 100 different people. Not one. Not just members. Not just boys. He’s not sure that’s still normal.

Suddenly, now there are new stories to tell. New grounds for conversations and at some point, he knows, he’s going to be expected to join in. To add his part. He’s gotten around it, so far, by pretending to be too shy and it’s believable because he’s the baby. Because he ducks his head when the conversation goes in that direction, because he can’t even look at two people kissing without going bright red in embarrassment.

They nudge him a little. Not much, but just enough to make him uncomfortable. It’s not that he doesn’t want to. He does, but he somehow thinks he’s missed his chance. Isn’t he too old now? He doesn’t know how or who or when or… just how? How does this work?

  


“I think she’s it.” BamBam says in the backseat of the car, staring down at his phone. Jinyoung rolls his eyes. Jaebum tells him to “be careful”. BamBam doesn’t let himself be chastised, he sinks deeper into his seat and types quickly with a half a grin on his face. Yugyeom’s tummy aches. Some members are more, some are less serious about their dates. But whenever they are, it gives him a strange feeling. It’s probably jealousy he thinks, though he doesn’t know whom it is for. Maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe Yugyeom is so desperate for it, he doesn’t even care whether he wants to have BamBam or have his girlfriend.

“Good for you.” He says quietly and pats BamBam’s thigh, heart fluttering over the beaming smile he receives in return. Supportive maknae, they call him sometimes. They all have their role in the dating department. Jaebum the authoritative, Jinyoung the dismissive, BamBam the homophobe, Jackson the excited, Mark the disinterested, Youngjae the comparative. (Nobody’s relationship is as perfect as his and it’s annoying). Yugyeom is the supportive one. Of each and everyone. It’s all he has. If he can’t do it himself, he can at least support the others have it. Maybe, just maybe he’s living through them a little bit. He listens attentively, tries to pick up on the how’s and why’s and tries to fit himself in there.

When the nudges of his members get harder, eventually become serious prodding… He’s not proud of it, but he avoids them. He hangs with his other idol friends a lot. Most of those who are his age and work under stricter agencies are not even close to the end of their dating ban. It’s comfortable for a while, until they begin to figure out that all of Yugyeom’s members are dating in one way or another and well… They want to hear about him as well.

It’s frustrating on so many levels. Sometimes he wonders if romance is all that people ever care about. All the movies, all the songs are about it. But he can’t really judge them, because he’s been thinking about it the past years. Like, nonstop. Singing all the songs about romance and girlfriends and being flirty with the fans. And having indecent thoughts about every single one of his friends at one point in time. It’s agonizing.

It all peaks, one day. When he’s drunk. It’s just him and Mark and Youngjae, everyone else too busy with their individual schedule. They’ve had a feast of a dinner and a few too many drinks. Enough to last the whole group in theory, all three of them drinking more than they should. Mark, with his lack of body mass, is wasted incredibly soon. It’s not a lie when Youngjae brags about being a heavy weight. He’s tipsy, but coherent, while Yugyeom is already lightheaded beyond anything, words like ‘shame’ or ‘dignity’ foreign to him.

“You know it’s nothing to be ashamed about, right?” Youngjae asks out of nowhere. Yugyeom, who’d been busy toying with passed out Mark’s feet in his lap looks up with a frown. “What’ya mean?” He inquires. “I mean. You got me and Jaebum. And like, there’s no need to be secretive about it.” Yugyeom’s frown simply deepens. He wonders if he missed or forgot about the first part of this conversation.

“Liking guys is fine.” Youngjae urges. “I mean, Jaebum is so gay, he wouldn’t touch a girl with a broomstick from 2 meters away, right?” Yugyeom can’t help but giggle about that mental image. He doesn’t really think about the meaning of the words until his laughter fades. “I’m not.” He says, quite the pathetic comeback and Youngjae snorts. “Yeah.” He says with a raised brow. “You’re totally not into dudes.” Yugyeom shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean.” He attempts to explain, but he doesn’t really know what else to say so he leaves it there.

“Is it…” Youngjae speaks thoughtfully now. “Because you’re into a member? Someone who’s taken? Or straight? Or both?” He glances over to where Yugyeom is still poking Mark’s socked toes. He vehemently shakes his head in response. “Then why’re you trying so hard to hide your sexuality from us?” It’s obvious that he doesn’t really believe him. “Am not!” Yugyeom gives back again, aware that he slips into childishness. “Just because I don’t mention it like, every two seconds like you guys.” He’s pouting and sees Youngjae soften.

“Okay.” He nods. “Just know that you can. Like, tell us anything.” Yugyeom looks away, focuses on Mark’s sleeping face, mouth hanging open and snoring loudly. He’s drunk. His heart aches. He has the overwhelming desire to come clean. There’s just Youngjae here. Youngjae is honest and caring and less prone than BamBam or Jinyoung or even Jackson to make fun of him. How bad could it be?

“Can you keep a secret?” He asks, before he properly thought it through. When he looks back up he sees Youngjae’s eyes widen in anticipation. He stares, intrigued, when he nods. Even draws a cross over his chest. “I…” Yugyeom begins, but has to take a deep breath before he can get any words out. “I think.. I like guys. Maybe. Girls, too, I guess. I’ve never really seen like… a difference?” A small smile quirks Youngjae’s lips, his eyes sparkling excitedly. “The thing is…” Yugyeom squirms on his seat uncomfortably. “… I haven’t really been able to find out. I mean I was really young when we debuted and… since then dating has been taboo and how would I… hum…” Youngjae’s head tilts slightly in confusion, the story about Yugyeom’s high school girlfriend with the long hair and cute button nose and short legs on both their minds.

“I have never dated anyone.” He concludes, biting his bottom lip. “I have never… kissed someone.” “But…” Youngjae makes and cuts off, eyes growing even larger, then finishes with a long, breathless “Oohhhh…”

“You promised not to tell anyone!” Yugyeom reminds him, panicking just mildly with the alcohol coursing through his veins, but not entirely free of emotions. Youngjae shakes his head wildly and promises “Won’t.”

“I’m 23.” Yugyeom complains his insecurity. “If I were to date someone. Anyone. They’d expect that I… know what I’m doing, but I don’t. I don’t know anything. And I told most people I have and then… what if I make a total fool of myself? I really, really want to, but I don’t know how and…” Youngjae slaps a hand over his mouth to stop his babbling. He didn’t even notice him scooting closer. “Chill bro.” He says, grabbing Mark’s feet and pushing them off his lap. “It’s not rocket science.”

Yugyeom mumbles disheartened “That’s easy to say when you do it all the time.” Youngjae shows him an encouraging smile. “I can teach you if you want.” Yugyeom sputters, just now realizing how close he is, their legs touching, his hand on his upper arm. “Wha…” he makes and feels his face heat up. “B..but Jaebum Hyung…?” Youngjae shrugs. “He won’t mind.” Yugyeom isn’t so sure about that. But it doesn’t change the fact that his heart flutters and his skin tingles, his mouth going dry.

He’s never really had the opportunity to nurse a crush on Youngjae. By the time he was all grown up and sexy, he’s already been in this half-there thing with Jaebum and Yugyeom refrained from getting involved. Doesn’t change the fact that the sole thought of kissing Youngjae makes him feel excited and nervous all over, the pure idea of his first kiss closing up his throat. Youngjae leans in impossibly close, so close that he can feel his hot breath hit his face. Dumbfounded, hazed, clouded, he nods.

His eyes shut close. Because that’s what you do when kissing, right? You close your eyes. There’s a moment of pure tension, his head spinning with either drunken-ness or fear, then Youngjae’s lips softly place against his own. It’s not a firework. It’s not how it’s described in books or movies or anything. But it is very nice. He didn’t know that other people’s lips were so smooth and soft, doesn’t know if his own are even.

It’s like that for a bit. Just their lips set against each other and Yugyeom’s labored breath and then Youngjae moves his. Yugyeom lowkey panics. He doesn’t know what he should do. Just let him? Move back? He feels a hand, warm and gentle creep up his shoulder and slip into his hair on the back of his neck, holding his head in place, so he can’t just pull away in fright. He feels Youngjae’s head tilt, just slightly and put more pressure onto his mouth. Carefully he attempts to mimic the motions, moving his own lips open and close and as he does that, Youngjae’s bottom lip gets caught between his own, before he pulls away with a huff.

Yugyeom’s eyes fly open in terror. Did he do something wrong? Youngjae smiles though. “That was fine.” He says cheerfully. “You don’t need to be that careful though.” Yugyeom nods shyly. He’s painfully reminded of his burning cheeks. He does want to kiss again. “Okay, so. Now we’re going to get a little naughtier.” Youngjae explains casually. “We kiss and you open your mouth okay?” Yugyeom shudders and nods hastily again and leans in eagerly, before he gets too nervous. Youngjae giggles quietly. “Alright, not so much for the theory there?” He cheers, but allows to bring their lips together again.

It’s just as nice as before and Yugyeom tilts his head a little like Youngjae did, so their noses don’t collide, but he thinks it’s kind of strange to just randomly open his mouth. That is until Youngjae does and suddenly the really wet, slippery tip of his tongue prods against his lips. It slips between them immediately and clashes with his teeth. Yugyeom shivers excessively, parting them with a little gasp, half-voluntary and half not and then Youngjae’s tongue is against his own.

The spark, the flash, the thing that didn’t happen when he expected it, happens now that he doesn’t. The sensation of Youngjae’s tongue, though it’s wet and sticky and rough is absolutely amazing. He can feel the details of its surface and he can taste it. The booze and the pizza cheese and something else. Something so foreign and unique it has him think ‘This is it’. This is the taste of another person. Youngjae’s tongue invades his mouth quite unapologetic, enough that he would have backed away his whole head if it wasn’t held in place still. So he pushes back carefully, rubbing his tongue against Youngjae’s. It sends a pleasant tingle down his back and has him regret deeply that he missed out on kissing for so many years.

It doesn’t take long for Youngjae to retreat, but Yugyeom is very unwilling to let go yet, so he chases after his tongue as it hides back behind his teeth, follows it into the warm, wet cave of his mouth. It’s honestly even better there. Youngjae’s taste stronger, overwhelming nearly. He feels Youngjae’s teeth graze along his tongue when he searches for its companion. It’s probably a little frantic, maybe sloppy even. Very wet indeed. But Youngjae allows him to play for a little longer, nudging his tongue playfully and cute until he apparently deems it enough.

He hold Yugyeom by the hair and draws out of his reach. They part with a slick sound, cool air washes over him and has him realize the wetness of his lips and everything. He closes his mouth shut in nervous shock and notices how ridiculously fast his heart is beating. Adrenaline coursing through his veins has him fidget, he licks his lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth. He tastes Youngjae there, lingering barely noticeable and his ears burn.

But Youngjae grins happily. “See?” He says joyfully, “No rocket science. You’re a neat kisser.” Yugyeom finally, eventually hides his face in his hands and Youngjae bursts into laughter, patting his back forcefully. “Now, how was your first kiss?”

Yugyeom nods behind his hands. Youngjae’s booming laughter startles a barely conscious Mark awake and the task of getting him to drink a glass of water and lie down in a bed allow his flushed face to calm down. Youngjae calls himself a taxi to “Be home when Jaebum crawls into bed later.” but Yugyeom stays and decides to crawl in at Mark’s side, yearning to lie down and sleep.

Youngjae hugs him Goodbye and grinning sheepishly presses a wet, harsh smack on his lips. Mark kind of shuffles and wakes when Yugyeom slips under his blanket. He mumbles something incoherent, but blinks at him. “You okay?” Yugyeom can make out. “Yeah why?” He inquires and Mark mumbles “You’re hot.” His fingers slip over his face and feel his heated cheeks.

“Hyung?” He asks, getting a hold of Mark’s wrist. He hums. “Do you want practice kissing with me?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request in the end bc spoilers.

„Honey!“ Jaebum startles out of his half-sleep feeling disoriented. “Hum?” He makes. There’s a warm hand on his chest and smelly breath in his face. He blinks his eyes open, but it’s completely dark. “Honey, you awake?” He hears a whisper and hums. The rough bare sole of a foot rubs against hi shin, nudging between his legs. It takes him a moment. “Youngjae?” He mumbles, sleep ridden. A kiss to his cheek, his jaw and the corner of his mouth.

“… what time is it?” He croaks, while Youngjae’s soft body and enticing warmth slips over him and all around him and lures him awake slowly but surely. “Dunno.” Youngjae giggles softly, peppering wet smooches to his face and neck. Jaebum sighs. “You drunk?” He asks, slipping a hand over Youngjae’s on his own chest where he’s taken to rubbing his nipples through his shirt. “’m _wasted_.” Youngjae cheers proudly. His tongue flicks out to lick at Jaebum’s lips. “’n I miss’ my seck…sy kitt’n.”

Jaebum heaves another sigh. “Youngjae.” He scolds but without any firmness. “I didn’t give you my apartment key so you can crawl into my bed in the middle of the night when you’re shitfaced and horny.” Youngjae grumbles and shoves his leg that was lodged so affectionately between,  up his all the way until his knees presses right into his crotch. “Not?” He asks, feigning innocence. “But that’s the best thing about having your key.”

Jaebum groans, wraps his arms around Youngjae and rolls them over. “You missed me?” He questions into his neck, mouthing at the skin. Youngjae giggles gleefully. “Sooo much.” He blabbers. Jaebum can taste the alcohol on his tongue when they kiss. It’s gross. His skin tastes of sweat and smoke, he doesn’t really want to know what shady, fucked up place Youngjae hung out at with his trashy friends.

But he’s pliant. Jaebum knows he won’t get to rest until Youngjae has had what he wants. And he knows how to get it, how to get anything from Jaebum. He drapes back into the sheets, his thighs fall open with ease, his back arches in pleasure. His lips part glistening wet, he moans messy encouragement, whines his name, over and over and over. Jaebum’s heart swells with affection and possessiveness while he marks the pale skin with lovebites and bruises. Youngjae begs. He pleads for touches, for kisses, pleads to be taken and ravished. Jaebum delivers.

It’s heated and passionate. Once Jaebum starts he can never stop, lust taking control of his actions until he’s barely himself anymore.

Until it’s over. Then he falls into the sheets, dead tired. When he got rid of the used condom and picked up a tissue to clean the cum stains of Youngjae’s belly, the other is already fast asleep, snoring obnoxiously how he tends to do when he’s drunk. Jaebum does his best to ignore the noises and the smell as he wraps him in a hug and snuggles close.

  


Jaebum is a walking corpse the next morning. He doesn’t even know how long he slept afterwards, but he certainly feels like it was just a minute. He takes a really hot shower, because taking cold showers is a dumb cliché and doesn’t help anyone. He doesn’t bother to be quiet when getting dressed for work, because Youngjae slumbers peacefully and it would need at least a tornado to wake his wasted ass. He does however press as soft kiss onto his open mouth before he leaves.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He texts Youngjae from work, but doesn’t receive an answer until about noon. “Hyung, where’re your aspirin?” Jaebum rolls his eyes. Maybe where they’ve always been? “Left door of the bathroom cabinet, babe. Headache?” There’s no answer and Jaebum puts his phone away.

When he has time to check again later that afternoon he finds one more text. “You’re out of cereals.” He sighs. That boy…

  


“Your ass looks forbidden in those slacks.” Youngjae hushes as he comes up behind him grabbing his waist. “Just my ass?” Jaebum pulls a face at him through the mirror where he peeks over his shoulder. Youngjae reaches around him to adjust his tie. “All of you.” He reassures. “Perfect 10.” Jaebum can’t help the way his face lights up. “The girls gonna be so jealous.” Youngjae murmurs and pecks the spot behind his ear that makes him tingly.

Jaebum sighs. “We’re not overdressed?” He asks and watches his head shake vividly. “Nooo, it’s a fancy dinner.” To be fair, they could be going to a wedding, or an award ceremony, both suited up head to toe, though it’s just Youngjae’s class reunion. “Come on, Sex god, we’re late.” Youngjae spanks him playfully on the butt and turns to leave. Jaebum rolls his eyes. “It was you who needed an extra 20 minutes to redo his hair.” He complains. “Well I need to live up to you don’t I?” He admits unabashed while he slips into his dress shoes and snatches the car keys off the shelf.

Jaebum frowns. “Aren’t we gonna take a taxi?” He’s tired of staying sober while Youngjae drinks. He’s met with a surprised glance. “Why? When you have a perfectly working new car?” Jaebum shuffles a little. He’s not fond of the idea of having to hang around Youngjae’s old friends where doesn’t know anybody and will likely get bored and then he can’t even drink some wine. “Come one, hun.” Youngjae cheers and grabs for his arm pulling him out the door. “Next time I’ll drive. Promise.”

It’s not as bad. One of Youngjae’s peers from his college music club seems to have really made it. They drive up to a big mansion with a fancy car in the driveway and Jaebum is relieved that he won’t stand out like a sore thumb in his three piece suit. What  _is_ embarrassing is how Youngjae flaunts around with Jaebum hanging at his arm while they greet everyone. Or rather Youngjae greets them with beaming eyes and he just nods his head and says “Hello, nice to meet you.” About a thousand times when Youngjae introduces him.

Jaebum is not a fan of upper class mannerisms, but he bites through it because it makes Youngjae happy. And he looks gorgeous when he’s happy and it is a lot better than him ending up under the filthy tables of Seoul’s most dodgy back-street pubs. The girls _are_ jealous. Jaebum can hear them whisper to Youngjae, who answers them a lot less secretive. “I know right. He’s to die for. I must have been a saint in my previous life.” Cue Jaebum turning away so they can’t see them blush and he busies himself with the buffet full of fancy starters and snacks.

There’s a chuckle by his side and he looks up instinctively. The handsome man with the boyish grin and creasing eyes looks familiar. They probably have been introduced but Jaebum doesn’t remember a single name. “Yes?” He asks, startled. The guy smirks. “Man, Youngjae is really head over heels for you, isn’t he?” Flushing furiously, Jaebum opts to stuff his mouth with some miniature salmon wraps, so he doesn’t have to answer. “It’s kind of funny.” Jaebum frowns on top of his hamster cheeks. “Hm?” He makes between chewing.

“Well…” The guy explains, letting his gaze wander in the direction where Youngjae is probably still boasting to his former female classmates. “Shouldn’t it be you prancing around your colleagues and friends priding yourself with your young, handsome sugar baby and not the other way around?” Jaebum almost chokes. A piece of bread goes down the wrong way and he begins coughing like crazy, almost spitting fish all over the table. The other man pats him harshly on the back, apologizing profoundly. “Sugar baby?” Jaebum croaks after a while, still attempting to breathe properly. “Gosh, sorry.” The guy raises is hands in apology. “I thought that was the thing with you guys.” Jaebum wipes his mouth with a napkin. “We’re boyfriends.” He hisses. It would be an understatement to say that the guy looks disbelieving. “Sure.” He mutters. “And Youngjae is not unemployed either, right.” Jaebum shoots daggers at him. “No, he isn’t.” He states with finality and stalks away, leaving the dumbfounded man behind.

“Why did Jinyoung-Hyung try to kill you?” Youngjae asks sweetly, ordering a few strays of hair on his forehead. Jaebum shrugs. “Nothing.” Youngjae leaves it at that.

Youngjae does get drunk, but at least not wasted. They leave when he doesn’t stop fondling Jaebum’s butt anymore and eventually attempts to pull him into a bathroom for a quickie. Jaebum decides that it’s time to get him home, where Youngjae doesn’t waste any more time tearing those damn slacks off of him. “You were so good.” He praises, having Jaebum’s naked body shudder underneath him. “Made me so proud.” He squirms and whines under the praise and exploiting hands.

Youngjae goes savage. He takes him twice that night after teasing him for what felt like hours. Jaebum is butter in his grasp, he burns up from the inside until he’s a pile of ashes, limp and defenseless and he thinks it’s worth it; the prancing and the glitter if this is his reward. They’re at it till the early morning hours, when the birds start to chirp and in the first rays of sunlight they finally fall asleep.

“Youngjae-ah.” Jaebum says carefully when they’re having a late breakfast and fiddles with his empty mug. “Huh?” Youngjae briefly glances up from his phone while he shovels egg into his mouth. “I know we’ve talked about this before.” Jaebum calmly explains. “But…” He swallows. “Can I ask you again to finally move in with me?” “Not that again, please.” Youngjae huffs dismissively. “Can’t I even have my breakfast in peace?” Something cold settles in Jaebum’s chest. “Youngjae?” He pleads.

Without looking at him Youngjae puts his phone face down on the table, staring blankly ahead. He finishes chewing slowly and swallows. “You said it yourself.” He states in that neutral voice of his that Jaebum hates because he can’t tell where it’s leading. “We’ve talked about this before and I’ve explained it to you before. I need my freedom.” He blinks and suddenly they’re looking at each other. “I know.” Jaebum sighs hastily. “I know that, darling, but… I have to keep asking you. Until you change your mind.” Youngjae’s gaze is piercing. “Why should I change my mind. I don’t like being suffocated in a relationship. You know that. Why do you keep pressuring me?”

There it is. Jaebum thought maybe he would get angry, maybe annoyed. But his tone slips off into the territory of hurt that he doesn’t bare well. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I just… This.” He gestures around the kitchen, the comfy meal. “We could have this always.”

“I don’t…” Youngjae breaks off and takes a shaky breath. “Look, I know, okay? Don’t think I know that… I’m far from perfect. I am not good enough for you. Can you please not… shove it in my face all the time?” Jaebum’s jaw tenses. “That’s not what I…” Youngjae’s eyes flash darkly. “Oh yes it is.” He cuts him off with a hiss, then he blinks rapidly. “I just can’t, okay? I’m sorry that I am this burden on you, but I can’t. I need space, Hyung! I can’t help it. I wish I could give you all that you deserve, but I…” And there is the sniffle. “I don’t know what to do either… Please just… please don’t ask me all the time. It hurts.” A thick round tear falls from his eye and rolls down his cheek.

Jaebum is by his side in an instant. He slides to his knees by his chair and presses his head into his side. “I’m sorry.” He whispers, rubbing his thigh with his palm. Youngjae sobs. “I don’t want to lose you, but… if we can’t… if we don’t fit, I…” Jaebum shushes him. “Shut up.” He says. “You’re not losing me… I’m sorry I asked, I’m sorry love.”

Youngjae cries and sniffs for a little longer. Then he finishes his cold eggs and goes home. Jaebum huddles on the sofa alone. He wishes they could spend their lazy Sundays snuggled together, but Youngjae is has the right to keep his independence. Jaebum is too patronizing sometimes. And it’s probably better for both of them.

  


“Darling, I need to cancel our dinner date.” Jaebum types down into his phone, curled up in his blanket and surrounded by used tissues. He adds a sad emoji for good measure. And a few more. The answer doesn’t take long. “What??!” Plus angry emoji. Jaebum’s heart sinks. “I’m sorry, baby.” He writes back. “I’m sick, I can’t go.”

Youngjae whines. At least Jaebum assumes he does. “But you promised!!!” comes back with way too many exclamation marks. He doesn’t have time to answer before the next message pops in. “You said you were gonna take me to that new place! That fancy one with the glass ceiling.” He said that. “I’m sorry. We will. I’ll take you there another time. I promise.” Sick of typing he tries to call Youngjae instead, but gets rejected.

“Don’t bother.” Youngjae writes. “I don’t give a crap about your promises.” It makes him angry. A little. “Babe, I will take you there. Just not tonight.” He takes a break to blow his nose. “But you can come over and we’ll order from that Sushi place and watch Netflix. How about?” It takes quite some time for Youngjae to answer.

“So I’ll catch your germs? No thank you. Just so you know, I had my hair done and I bought a new outfit, too. I was really excited to go. I even got waxed.” Jaebum’s heart aches. He doesn’t want to disappoint him, but he really doesn’t feel like he can leave the house. “Please don’t be upset. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” All he receives is a “Whatever.” He buries his face in his blanket and screams. He breathes deeply. Some graveling won’t hurt, right?

“I do miss you terribly.” He sends. “I wish I was with you right now. Are you sure you don’t want to come over and watch a movie? Pretty please?” This times it takes even longer for Youngjae to respond. “I got dolled up to go out and I will.” He responds finally. “If you don’t want to take me out, just tell me. If all I’m worth to you is sitting on your lame ass sofa watching Jurassic Park the millionth time. Fine. I’ll go out with Jackson. Don’t come at me with your shit excuses just because you think you’re spending too much money on me. I won’t ask anymore. Sorry for wanting to spend quality time with you.”

Torn between being furious and heartbroken Jaebum starts typing, which is hard because the keyboard blurs before his eyes. He hasn’t finished even one sentence when Youngjae already sends a new. “Don’t text me anymore. I’m out.”

Jaebum hurls his phone away. It bounces off the armchair and clatters to the ground. It’s alright, he tells himself, when he orders food and picks out a movie. It’s just Youngjae being Youngjae. He’s a bitch sometimes. Easily upset, but it never lasts. Tomorrow he’ll be fine again. Maybe even tonight if he gets drunk. This has happened plenty before. They’ve been dating for ages, he knows Youngjae. It’s fine. Jaebum is fine. Except that he feels lonely and that he really misses his boyfriend.

Two movies later he stares at his phone that didn’t get a scratch from the throw. He wonders if Youngjae is drunk enough that he can shoot him a text without upsetting him further. He just wants to know if he’s okay. He’s out with Jackson isn’t he? Jackson is Youngjae’s roommate. At first Jaebum didn’t really like him living with another man, but Jackson turned out to be incredibly sweet and loyal and most definitely not a threat in any way. Jackson will take good care of him.

He opts to text Jackson instead. They’ve never actually corresponded and Jaebum only met him once, so he has to search for his number. “Hey Jackson.” He ponders and decides to add his name in case he doesn’t have his number saved. “This is Jaebum. Can I ask you if Youngjae is alright? We’ve had a quarrel.”

It doesn’t take long for his phone to light up. The first message is just a “???” He doesn’t know what to make of it. “I don’t know, bro? He’s not home.” Jaebum’s skin crawls. “Uhm, he said he’d go out with you because I canceled our date…” He types as fast as he can and waits anxiously. “Negative.” Jackson replies. “He said he’s out with his boyfriend, we never made plans.” Jaebum shuffles. “But I canceled in the afternoon already. Didn’t he say anything after that?” His heart is thumping in his chest.

“Dunno man.” Jackson answers, but he’s a kind soul. “Give me a minute. I’ll check in for you.” The next couple of minutes are torturous while he anxiously waits for an answer, checking the screen every few seconds. _Finally_ a message pops up. “I asked him if he’s gonna be home tonight. He sent this.”

Maybe Jaebum is hallucinating. Maybe he’s having a fever dream from the flu. He stares at the picture that Jackson forwarded. Youngjae took a selfie, arm stretched all the way over his head, looking up with a wink and his tongue out. On a bed. The photo frame just so captures the lower half of his body. And a second body. The lower back of it to be precise. And Youngjae’s cock buried to the hilt in their ass.

Jaebum presses the trash can icon without a second thought. His breathing and heart beat calm down to a resting state. It’s not. There’s an explanation. There’s a reason. He gently sets his phone aside and grabs one of the pizza rolls to take a bite. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Tomorrow everything will be okay. Youngjae won’t be upset anymore, like always. They’ve been dating forever, they know each other well. They’ll be fine and Jaebum will take him to that fancy restaurant next week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by [moonlightmusiciansblog](https://moonlightmusiciansblog.tumblr.com/)
>
>> author-nim can i request a fic where youngjae is "evil" and just uses jaebeom for showing off and sex but jaebeom is blind with it because he loves youngjae hehehehe
> 
>   


	3. Chapter 3

When Youngjae wakes up, he knows something is wrong. The smell of grass and soil and dead leaves surrounds him, clouding his senses. He scrunches his nose and shivers. When he sits up a gust of wind, cold October air caresses is naked skin and has him shiver. “Fuck.” He mutters. Which is objectively spoken the absolutely perfect summary of the situation. A big, bad ‘fuck’.

He sway his head looking around, but he sees nothing but trees and brush. Gentle sunlight peeks through the roof of leaves, golden rays falling to the ground, having the already fallen leafage shimmer in all colors of orange and yellow.

And red. Youngjae freezes dead. Not autumn red. Not foliage red. Blood red.

He stares at the dark sprinkles of blood staining the ground. No, please no, god, no. He follows the soiled ground with his eyes. The stains become thicker to where he’s sitting. Finally he looks down on himself. Not just his hands are covered in it. Also his legs and chest. He rubs his upper arm over his face and there crumbles dried blood.

He heaves, swallows. His throat aches in his attempt to hold it back, but then a desperate sob breaks out of him. His flood gates open and he starts crying pathetically, tears running down his cheeks, wetting the crusted blood and falling reddish-brown into his lap.

He can’t tear his gaze away from the mess. He can’t understand what happened, wishes he could wake up from this nightmare. Then, through the veil of tears he spots something between the blood-covered leaves, barely noticeable. His breath hitches. He holds it, rubs at his eyes to see more clearly, probably making an even bigger mess.

Something shimmers between the dark red and brown. Stained itself, but undeniably white in origin. Fuzzy little hairs. He reaches out, grabs a pile of dirt and brings it up to his face with his brown, dirt covered hand and filthy nails. There they are. Small bushes of white fur. Relief floods his senses. It certainly is fur. Now that the pounding of his heart calms down and his mind clears, as he blinks around him he can spot more of it. Scattered everywhere are pieces of an animal’s white coat. Maybe a bunny.

He throws the handful of dirt into the bushes and takes a few deep breaths. Everything is alright. Well, effectively he’s sitting stark naked in the middle of the woods. That’s not alright. But it could be worse. He could be a murderer. He looks up into the sky. He has no phone, no watch, no idea where he is. But he grew up around the forest and he’s not so easily lost.

  

It should be around 10 in the morning, he thinks, blinking at the sun, 11 at max. The terrain slightly falls behind him. The town is in the valley, the lowest point between the hills, so he’ll go that way. If he’s south of it, he can sneak in at home easily, otherwise he’ll have to walk all the way around the village and he wouldn’t like that very much. But it’d be doable. And once he’s home and  _washed_ , he can figure out what happened last night.

He scrambles to his feet, covered in nothing but dirt and blood and goosebumps. It’ll be a freezing walk, but he feels better with a plan and the prospect of a hot shower. It’s when he takes his first step that his eyes are drawn to the ground once more. He couldn’t see it before, probably sat on it, but now it’s blaringly visible. His heart stops dead for a moment there. His legs shake and he’s about to tumble back to the ground, can just so hold himself up on his feet. There’s a furry feeling in his stomach, a bitter taste on his tongue and it’s not exclusively from the fact that he swallowed a whole animal last night.

He slaps his hand onto his mouth to keep himself from screaming. Or from throwing up. Or both. The tears are back in an instant. He bends down and as gently as he can picks it up. Then he stumbles forward. He cries while he runs. He falls a few times, hurts his knees, scratches his skin open, rips his hair out that tangle in the brush. He doesn’t care. He runs and runs, fist clutched tightly around it and he runs.

He chooses the path on instinct, nearing the town constantly. He approaches not from south directly, but from southeast. And that’s the worst possible place to be for him right now. When he breaks through the last line of thorned bushes he falls to the ground and hears a scream. He attempts to get back up, holding onto the fence that separates him from a herd of frightened cattle. They storm out of the way when a figure comes running square over the pasture.

“Youngjae!” He hears a gasped yell and the voice alone has him break into another fit of sobs. “Oh my God, what happened!? Youngjae-ah!” Jaebum climbs over the fence and then his strong arms wrap around his torso and pull him into a tight hug. “Oh my God, baby.” Jaebum hushes breathlessly. “What happened to you?!” Youngjae buries his face in his chest and sobs and shakes his head.

Jaebum picks him up and walks the long way around the pasture, carrying him as Youngjae clings to his shoulders. Jaebum is the best thing that ever happened to him and he  _ruined_ it. They’ve been best friends ever since they pooped their diapers together. And now they’ve been dating for barely two weeks, a big step and yet not in their relationship. Youngjae normally feels giddy in his presence ever since they shared an awkward first kiss. But there’s also no place in the world where he feels comfier and safer than in Jaebum’s hug.

Jaebum doesn’t bring him to his room but straight into the bathroom instead. “Are you alright, Youngjae?” He asks softly as he sets him down in the tub. He shakes his head in response, fist clenched so tightly his knuckles are white as snow. The hot water burns painfully on his cold and bruised skin, but he doesn’t make a sound about it. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t… I didn’t know. I kind of… I didn’t pay attention.” Jaebum explains, sitting down on the edge of the tub.

“I ran over to your place in the morning, because Shelly is missing. She’s just gone, I can’t find her. And then you weren’t there and I saw the shed door was burst open and I was so scared. I kind of recounted the days and I had forgotten and I remembered your family isn’t home and now I get why you didn’t accompany them to visit your brother in the city, I thought it was because of me and we’re finally gonna have sex while your parents are gone. But I forgot it’s that time of the month for you and I’m sorry I forgot, I was kind of… I don’t know. And you were gone and Shelly is missing and I was so scared and worried, what _happened_?”

Jaebum’s monologues can go on forever. The water is already up to Youngjae’s ribs, tainted dark with blood and soil when he finally quiets. Shelly is Jaebum’s pet goat. He’s had her for 9 years and loves her more than his parents.

Youngjae turns his tear stained face up to him and finally, carefully opens his fist. It lies flat on his palm that he holds out to him. The pink leather collar with the adorning silver charm that states her name. “I’m sorry, Hyung.” He says. “I ate her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >  
>> 
>>   
>  Prompt #4 Werewolves. Honestly I tried to think of an idea and I have none.  
> 


	4. Pass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > i want to request tooo, maybe teacher-student au, teacher - jb, student - youngjae, any plot is fine as long as that isnt angst
> 
> So, [ninalyene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninalyene/pseuds/ninalyene) asked for a teacher/student fic and well... I wanted to write it and I did, in fact write it. But... I don't think I met the single 'no angst' condition, because well, it is... uhm...
> 
> Guys. Sometimes I am a little... bad. In the head. I do not apologize for writing this per se, just for the fact that it's not the perfect fulfillment of the request. I am sorry for that. I actually tried to re-write this a lot lighter, but I gave up after just half a page, because I just couldn't. So, now you have to deal with this. (Or don't, I mean you can always walk away, right)
> 
> Before you proceed:
> 
> **ATTENTION! NON-CON AHEAD.** sry

„Youngjae.“ His blood runs cold as he hears his name being called in this stern tone, just when he reached the door, a second before he got to safety. He stills, though unwillingly. Bodies push past him out the door and into the hallway. Lucky them, he thinks. They probably don’t even know how well off they are. That they can just go. Leave.

“Stay for a minute, will you?” It’s phrased like a question, but it is not one, voice dark and threatening, Youngjae’s shoulders sag. Someone pats his back. “Stay strong, mate.” His friend says when he slips away as the last of them, dispersing into the corridors. Youngjae stares through the doorway at the opposite wall. He could. He could just walk outside, run. Heavy steps behind him. The last person in the room walks around him, grabs the door and slides it shut. Slowly, quietly. Yet the click rings deafening in Youngjae’s ears. His freedom, his safety, locked out when the key turns in its hole and with a cold finality, he is trapped.

Mr. Im turns around to him and he has the audacity to smile. He flings the key around on its strap before putting it into his pocket, hiding it from Youngjae’s view, close but unreachable. “Youngjae.” Mr. Im says and walks back to his desk, this time Youngjae’s eyes follow him, his body turns. He sits back in his chair, flicking his fingers and crossing his arms on the desktop.

Carefully Youngjae steps towards him, stopping on the other side of the desk. It’s not his first time being here, scolded, chastised. He stands straight, but eyes casted down, awaiting his conviction. “Look at me.” Mr. Im demands, so Youngjae looks up hesitatingly. The gaze he meets is piercing, aura threatening enough to frighten even the most rebellious students. Youngjae isn’t even close to being one of them. He’s a good student, he follows rules, he studies hard.

“Why are your grades dropping again?” Mr. Im asks to which Youngjae doesn’t have an answer. “You do know you’re the worst student in my class, right?” He keeps going, unfazed that he receives no responses. Youngjae doesn’t want to answer. “I should just let you fail this course.” The threat has Youngjae’s lips part in surprise, he sucks in a shocked puff of air, eyes widening. “Sir…” He starts, but Mr. Im raises his hand to shush him, so his mouth shuts as on instinct.

“I have the feeling you’re not even trying to pass.” He explains further. “You’re a lazy piece of shit.” Youngjae feels his ears heat up over the accusations. He’s not lazy, he’s being treated unfairly. An undefined anger boils in his guts, mixed with the fear it almost has him shake. “You have this one chance.” Mr. Im speaks low. “To convince me not to let you fail.” Youngjae’s jaw shuts tight in rage. “And I want you to remember that it’s your university application on the line.”

Yeah right. As if Youngjae could forget that. There are many things he wants to say, but he swallows them. “Sir…” He starts. “I am trying…” “Not enough!” he gets cut off, before he has the chance to even say what he wants. He feels like he’s burning up from the inside, his muscles tense. “Then I will try more.” He promises and adds. “What about an assignment?” Mr. Im scoffs. “Right, because I want to waste my spare time grading another one of your worthless essays.”

Youngjae’s heart sinks. The unfairness of it all has him snap. “Well how am I going to fix my grade this late if I can’t get extra credit?!” He almost yells and watches in terror how Mr. Im’s posture straightens as he takes his arms off the table. His eyes glint. “I never said I wouldn’t grant you extra credit.” He whispers dangerously. Youngjae quiets in confusion. The silence hangs thick in the room.

“But. Since apparently you cannot impress me with your brain, you might want to use your body instead.” It takes quite some time for the implications to sink in. When they do, Youngjae shudders, rendered speechless. Mr. Im snarls. “Put your bag down.” Without thinking about it, Youngjae lets his backpack slide off his shoulders and thump to the ground. “Now come around here.” He follows, even though he doesn’t know why. He shouldn’t. He knows this is wrong. As he steps around the desk, Mr. Im turns his chair so they’re facing each other again. Even though Youngjae needs to look down on the sitting man he feels small. Powerless.

“You normally use your mouth for spouting bullshit and talking back. Shall we see if we can put it to a better use?” Mr. Im asks, but it’s apparently not even a question, because while he speaks Youngjae’s eyes follow his hands to the front of his pants, opening the belt, then the button, then the zipper. He halts and looks up to Youngjae dismissively. Then he orders. “Down.” In a tone as if he’s appalled that he even needs to say that.

Youngjae drops to his knees in an instant. They hurt when they land on the hard floor. He finds himself eyelevel with his teacher’s crotch and shivers. He averts his eyes, just to look up and find the man look down at him from above. Now Youngjae is really small. Helpless. “Do you want the better grade, Youngjae?” Mr. Im asks, tugging his underwear out of the way at the same time. He does not expect a ‘No’. And he most likely wouldn’t accept one either. Youngjae wonders if he has the power to refuse, but he really can’t afford to fail this course.

“Do you want to pass. This. Class. Youngjae?” Mr. Im repeats dangerously. Tears burn in Youngjae’s eyes and throat. He can’t let them fall, he knows that and swallows them back down. He can’t. Then, very slowly, he nods. A hand comes up to his face, the palm against his cheek feels almost gentle. Then his thumb runs over his bottom lip, it’s dry and raw before it pushes between his lips and digs between his teeth. Instinctively Youngjae pulls his tongue away from the impact, but he can barely avoid it, feels the finger’s rough surface against the sensitive muscle. It curls around his bottom teeth and grips his jaw, pulling at him so his head moves forward and his body follows, scooting closer.

It’s one thing, Youngjae thinks as he kneels there with his teacher’s thumb in his mouth, to force your student to suck your dick because you’re horny and a pervert. But that’s not it. Not entirely at least. He can’t shake off the feeling that this is much more about humiliating him. Which is kind of confirmed, when Mr. Im orders. “Look at me.” It takes a lot of strength to do so. Not because the view he has is particularly pleasing as he watches him whip out his flaccid cock with his free hand, but looking at his arrogant face seems a lot worse.

He can’t lift his face, just his eyes and it puts him beneath. Even further. Mr. Im’s face is blank. No evil grin, no superiority. As if this whole situation wasn’t amusing, just as if it’s a normal occurrence, as if he doesn’t think much about sexually abusing his underage student because of a failing grade. He looks  _bored_ . “Open up.” He says, exasperated, as if Youngjae is too dumb to know what to do himself. He puts pressure on his tongue, parts his jaw. Youngjae has never felt so vulnerable in his life, opening his mouth wide, knowing full well what he does it for.

Finally Mr. Im removes his thumb, but only to grab his dick and push it between his lips. Youngjae shudders. Even though he expected it, he wasn’t prepared. His body convulses, his mind screams and his widened eyes water. It’s not like he never sucked a dick. But usually he does it voluntarily. Having it shoved into his mouth, slipping past his lips and teeth and pushing against his tongue, it’s not the same.

“Save yourself the crocodile tears.” Mr. Im advises him and slips his hand behind the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair and holding him steady while he maneuvers his barely stiffening cock deeper into his mouth. “And do something for your grade.” The hold around his head has Youngjae’s heart contract in fear, even when he closes his lips around the intruder and sucks. His hands, uselessly hanging in his lap until then come up, grasping the shins on either side of him, fingers digging into the soft fabric of very expensive dress pants.

A very small, soft groan sounds above him, even though Mr. Im’s face does not move, their gazes still locked, air burning between them. Tentatively Youngjae presses his tongue against the head, it feels foreign in his mouth and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His stomach is churning, a dull feeling of wanting to throw up and still, he slips his lips further down the shaft. He wasn’t very big when he was soft, but while he feels him harden on his tongue, he also feels him grow, filling his mouth further and further.

He knows that his motions are too hesitant and too small when his teacher tells him to “Show me some effort.” In a chastising hiss. Youngjae swallows with some difficulty and attempts to take the length deeper, but it’s really thick and his jaw already aches from the effort. He can’t. He’s certain he can’t. In a rash moment he pulls his head back, wants nothing else than get this thing out of his mouth. But he’s stopped. The arm holding his head tenses, puts pressure against the back of it and stops him. He’s caught.

Not just that he can’t back away, the backlash has him fall forward, the pressure strong enough to shove him down the cock. It hits the back of his throat, merciless and he chokes. His body reacts against the invasion, his throat closing up, his chest heaving. A gurgled sound escapes him, muffled but pitiful. His gag reflex gets to work, he can’t breathe, body going into flight mode, he’s fighting against the grip, nails scratching along textile of his teacher’s pants. He’s panicking, begging with his eyes as his vision blurs with tears and he can’t make out his perpetrator’s face anymore.

Then the hand in his hair balls into a fist, tugging painfully as he’s pulled off. Youngjae sags back onto his heels when he’s finally relieved, wet, hard cock slipping out of his mouth and his face drops while he coughs and fights for air, holding his chest and looking down into his lap. He’s shaking and choking and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Heaving for breath he sits there, ashamed and awaits the trial.

“Useless.” Mr. Im comments, not so much disappointed he sounds more like that’s exactly what he expected. “Fine. You fail.” Youngjae’s head whips up and sees his teacher turn to his desk grabbing a pen. “Wha… No!” He croaks out, soundless and hoarse. This can’t have been for nothing! He had his teacher’s dick down his throat, he can’t still fail.

Mr. Im looks down at him from the side. “You can’t even blow yourself a grade. What’re you good for?” The tears he’s still fighting not to fall burn in his eyes. He can’t do this to him. Youngjae is a good student. He’s a good kid. He doesn’t deserve any of this. “Please…” He whispers, not knowing exactly what he’s pleading for. Mr. Im pushes his chair back when he rises to his feet, having Youngjae almost crack his neck in his attempt to follow him with his eyes. He’s so far down…

Until the fingers return to his head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling him to his feet harshly. He stumbles and cries out over the sharp pain. Standing up he’s barely shorter than his teacher, but it doesn’t change how tiny and helpless he feels. He’s pulled forward and then shoved around, his front collides painfully with the desk, the edge digging into his hips. His arms fly up to remove the grip from his hair, it hurts, but his fingertips scratch fruitlessly over the skin of Mr. Im’s hand. He yelps from the impact, trying to push away from the table, but he’s pushed back. The hand does let go of his hair, but only to – to Youngjae’s absolute horror- snake around to his front and grab for his pants. He doesn’t have time for more than a sharp inhale when the button of his uniform slacks is already torn open and then they’re pushed down along with his underwear, baring his bottom. Mr. Im’s whole body presses against him from the back and he can distinctly feel the outline of his hard-on press into the flesh of his butt. He would give way, but he’s caught between the man and the table and as the pressure on his back increases he falls forward, just so catching himself on the desk top with his shaking arms.

Of course he knows what’s coming and it has him whimper quietly in fear. “Last chance.” A voice from far away murmurs into his ear. His pants slide down the rest of his legs until they end up around his feet, his cool air has him shiver. Then something collides with his spine, between his shoulder blades and he falls with a cold finality as his weak arms give out. His chest comes to lie flat on top of the table, the edge boring into his hips. The pressure from his backside vanishes as Mr. Im steps back, having Youngjae fully aware of how his ass is on display, all nude and bent over, his cock dangling loosely between his legs. His eyes screw shut as if that could turn off the world. He feels humiliated, but he doesn’t dare to move, if nothing physical is holding him down, something else is.

Then there’s a hand, warm and strong on his naked skin, grabbing one of his cheeks. Youngjae’s own glide over the rough surface of the table, clenching into fists and crumpling papers in them. He’s still shivering, his breathing uneven. The hand pulls his cheek out to the side, the other coming for help, grabbing his whole butt and spreading his cheeks open harshly, baring his hole. Youngjae feels it flutter involuntarily being exposed to the air and the view. The wet smack sounds too loud when Mr. Im spits onto his rim and Youngjae shivers in disgust as he feels the saliva run down his crack. He spits again, maybe in his hand, as if Youngjae could care but it’s all too soon that one of the hands lets go of his cheek and the head of his cock nudges against his hole.

Youngjae sucks in a terrified breath and bites down on his lip, whole body taught as he braces against the pain. It doesn’t help. With blunt force the thick hardness pushes through his unwilling entrance, rough and dry and he cries out in pain. It hurts so bad, a sob tears from Youngjae’s throat, his hole stretched open by a cock too big for him to take raw. His teacher is merciless, he grunts deeply as he enters him, grabs his hips to hold him steady and rocks against him. Youngjae wails when he gets stuck and pulls back to slam forward with more force. And finally he can’t hold them anymore. Tears spill down his face, drop and soak the papers underneath him.

Mr. Im doesn’t comment on it, doesn’t acknowledge it, even though the sobs shake Youngjae’s body. It feels like he’s torn apart, impaled on his teacher’s cock, thick and hot and hard. His entrance burns from the dry friction, enough that even the table’s corners don’t hurt him anymore, nor the soreness of his throat or his aching knees.

He’s not fucked. He’s used. Nobody cares what he thinks or how he feels. It doesn’t matter how much he cries and he cries a lot. He stuffs his own fist in his mouth to muffle his wails while Mr. Im pounds into his ass like he’s a porn star. He growls and groans deeply while he does, the thrusting of his hips relentless and powerful. He’s so big and reaches so deep, Youngjae’s guts ache from the maltreatment and his sensitive hole is throbbing. He whimpers with every thrust, every time the rough surface of the unwanted cock drags along his abused ring of muscle and every time it bottoms out, impaling him fully and ramming the blunt tip against his inner walls.

Subtly he thinks about begging him to stop, but he doesn’t. He takes it. Not well, but he does. Tears falling freely and shuddering wildly he’s available for his teacher’s pleasure, offering his butt for free use. The harshness does not slow, but Youngjae’s crying does, bit by bit until he’s merely sobbing quietly. It still hurts but it is no longer as violent as it was at first, the brutal fucking opened him up so well, his hole is loose enough to allow the quick, sharp thrusts.

And maybe, just maybe, Mr. Im did in fact acknowledge his pitiful cries, because when he quiets, for what feels the millionth time he shoves his hand into Youngjae’s hair and he tugs him up. Half of his chest bends off the table as his head is pulled back, forcing a sad yelp from his lips. It hurts, even in the middle of this and maybe Mr. Im uses the leverage to pick up just another notch of speed and force, buying himself inside his ass like a wild animal with dark grunts and nails digging into his scalp.

This didn’t have to be, it’s too much. It should have been enough for him to get off, to force his dick into an unwilling participant, but it wasn’t. It needs to be violent, too. It’s an eternity. For Youngjae at least, while fresh tears fall and his body shuts down until he’s completely out of it, until he seems to be nothing else but pain and lifeless flesh. And then finally, he comes.

His hips snap harshly, erratic and then he digs into his body one last time and comes inside him, deep and hard and hot, spilling into him, wet and sticky with a vicious groan and pulling his hair hard enough that he might as well just rip it out.

Youngjae feels every little bit and then he is released. He falls back forward onto the desk and his legs give out entirely until he is loosely hanging off the edge as the cock is slipped out of him, relieving his abused hole. He gives one last sob and silences, merely shaking in his attempt to keep breathing. He’s not sure he ever wants to get up. He will feel that sore ass for days on end, he knows that even now.

He hears the clacking of a belt and the rustling of clothes. Then Mr. Im leans over the table, not close enough to be touching him, but enough to quietly tell him. “A+” While Youngjae feels his cum leak down his thighs.

  


Youngjae slips through the door quietly, since it’s almost midnight. But he still finds lights turned on in the living room after he left his shoes neatly on the shelf and slowly walks to the door. A smile tugs on the lips in his tired face when he finds the figure sleeping soundly on the sofa, TV running on mute. He sits by his boyfriend’s head and gently cards his fingers through his hair. He grumbles and shifts and then his eyes crack open slowly.

“Baby.” He smiles weakly and sleepily blinks up to him. “Waited for you…” Youngjae smirks. “Of course you did, love.” His boyfriend nuzzles against his hand and yawns. “How late?” Youngjae sighs. “Almost twelve, I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” His boyfriend answers softly, “I’ve been a student, I know how hard you study.” He scoots upright. “How was your day?” Youngjae hums. “Exhausting. And painful.” He admits. Jaebum wraps his arms around him. “I’m sorry. Let me pamper you.” He murmurs and kisses his cheek and his jaw. “I bet at least some good thing happened today.” Youngjae scrunches his nose. “Well, that class I was so scared to fail…” He explains slowly and Jaebum hums. “… you know, with the teacher who hates me? I made it. I got an ‘A’.”

Jaebum pulls away to look at him. “That’s so great, baby. I knew you’d find a way.” He leans in to press a wet smooch on his lips. “I’m so proud of you.”

Youngjae heaves a happy sigh when he snuggles into his boyfriend’s arms after a hot shower, surrounded by soft pillows and blankets. “Also Youngjae.” Jaebum mumbles quietly, eyes closed and ready to drift off. “I said A  _plus_ .” Youngjae chuckles lightly. “Mhh I’m sorry Mr. Im.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't ever make it real. I think of it as a... game they play until Youngjae is no longer his lover's student, but ya'll know I can't with bad karma.
> 
> Also this wasn't posted on tumblr for once bc I think it's too Explicit for that place.


End file.
